Void
by gnails
Summary: Their love essential, but their relationship lacking. A short story of the downward spiral of the less than perfect love between a ninja and a gunblade wielder. A Squffie of sorts.


My first KH fiction. Beware of angst, lots of it.  
  
Don't own, nope nope!

* * *

Their love was essential, but their relationship was lacking.  
  
The empty hallways of the Hallow Bastion castle loomed with darkness. A thudding sound of a pair of heavy boots against hard marble floor echoed in the silhouetted corridors.  
  
He stopped in front of a door, knocking softly to show that he was here.  
  
The girl behind the oaken door stared at the sound. She could never understand why he would always knock before coming in.  
  
The door creaked open and a dark figure slowly made his way to the bed. He stood there, silently, watching her naked figure covered by white sheets.  
  
And she, she hated that look. His blue eyes would always have such a hard look. Always.  
  
She wondered if he knew that her eyes were red from crying, that her throat was sore from screaming, that she wanted more, always wanted more.  
  
But she knew, oh how she knew, that he could not have commitment.  
  
Their relationship started out so blissfully, always together, side by side. She, the greatest ninja in the world, would always be so happy, and he, the great gunblade wielder, would always have the softest smile when he looked at her.  
  
But how could she have been so foolish? She figured too late that she was living in a delusion. A childish fantasy where they would live happily ever after.  
  
He could not stay with her. He was becoming weary, bored. It was only then, that he realized it, that everything began to spiral downwards.  
  
Their relationship deteriorating, they failed to talk, to understand each other. Their delicate balance which they cherished once was shifting. Yuffie held all the emotional baggage, while Squall had none.  
  
He began to sleep with other women, and she knew. She began to fall into a deep pit of despair, and he knew. Yet neither did anything about it. Nothing.  
  
He began to undress, first his boots, then his jacket, his belts, shirt, and the rest.  
  
She would cry into his shoulder, repeating his name over and over again because she loved him so much. He would sink his fingers into her thighs; kiss her thoroughly because he loved her so much.  
  
And then after they were done, or too tired to continue, he would wordlessly dress, comb through his hair, and gently kiss her forehead with a "goodnight". Then, he would leave as if he was never there.  
  
She would sob into her pillows, cursing the man and her love for him, and wonder, oh always wonder, why it turned it out like this.  
  
Was it maybe because she held onto him too tightly?  
  
Was it maybe because he held onto her too loosely?  
  
And with such wonderings, she would fall into a fitful sleep, knowing that the same events would be repeated the next night.  
  
He always left her crying.

* * *

_She smiled while she snuggled deeper into his chest. He caressed her face with tenderness.  
  
"I love you." Yuffie said with such emotion.  
  
Squall smiled into her hair.  
  
"And I love you too."  
_

* * *

Another night, another repeat of actions of before.  
  
As he dressed, he never looked her way.  
  
Was she just another woman to him? Wasn't she something special?  
  
"Stop it," Yuffie mumbled.  
  
Squall looked at her slender figure in her bed, "Stop what?"  
  
He would feign ignorance when he knew too well what she was talking about.  
  
"Stop it, Squall, stop it!" She cried while she got out of the bed, white sheets wrapped around her. He stopped, his shirt in his hands and his jacket and boots scattered on the floor.  
  
"What are you talking about Yuffie?" He never used her name. He would never say it when it was light, he would never say it when it was dark. He was so cold.  
  
She let out a heart wrenching sob. She had enough. It was too much.  
  
She bumped against her dresser.  
  
And in her hand was a shuriken. She threw at him. Her aim was terrible from her toiling feelings. She missed horribly.  
  
He did not flinch, did not care when the small weapon zoomed by.  
  
He walked up to her, each step soft against the carpet.  
  
She fell bent over, tears slipping down her cheeks and weeping for something lost. Something lacking.  
  
He stood there like a quiet erect statue.  
  
She stopped.  
  
"Why?"  
  
The question was never answered. She looked up to watch his back going to the door.  
  
He stopped.  
  
He sighed.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
The door opened, and he was gone.

* * *

He knocked on the door. Once, twice.  
  
The door opened...  
  
And she was gone.  
  
This time, he was the one left crying.  
  
Their love essential, but their relationship shattered.  
  
END.  
  
Enjoy? 


End file.
